


The Spirit and The Sea

by fox_an_hound



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Accidents, Depression, Haunting, Hospitalization, Hospitals, Injury Recovery, Jump Scares, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Slow Burn, Surfing, blink and you'll miss it sheith, ghost - Freeform, lance not doing what he's supposed to do and causing more problems for himself, slight depression
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-14 06:17:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15382512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fox_an_hound/pseuds/fox_an_hound
Summary: Besides family, surfing and Cuba were the only words that could define his life. When the unthinkable happens to him, Lance’s life is turned around, and not for the better… So it seems. An injury that thankfully spared his life has left him without both of his biggest definitions. His family moved to America for him because his care and recovery are going to take much too long, and constant flights back and forth will cost too much. A new house, less of his family around, a new way of looking out at life… and a new friend? Lance’s battle with Death has left him with some… troubling new abilities. He sees dead people. Well, person. Unbeknownst to his parents when renting the property, they have just dropped Lance right in the middle of Ghost-central. He has to do the unthinkable – share a room with an out-of-touch ghost that can be startled by new-age technology. As he recovers and talks to the ghost in his room, he soon learns that though they were separated by decades… Seventeen year olds never seem to change.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This is my entry for the Hanceome Big Bang 2k18!
> 
> I had a ton of fun with this and I hope you have fun reading it~
> 
> Just for your information, this is a bilingual fic, but instead of going back and forth with footnotes and translations I used brackets "[ ]" to show conversations in Spanish~

It had been a beautiful day, Lance could remember thinking as he grabbed his board and ran out to the beach before dawn. He had slept great, had grabbed a piece of bread on his way out of the house, and booked it to the ocean.

The sand was cold on his toes, but the water warm on his face. He grinned, salt water hitting him in his face as he paddled out. Blood roared in his ears and he could feel his heart thump in his chest as the waves bobbed him.

When he made it out far enough, he leaned back on his board and looked out at the horizon, waiting for the perfect wave. He slapped a beat on his board, licking his lips and nodding his head along with it as he let the salty air fill his lungs.

His palms came down harsh on the water of his board and he gasped, seeing a wave headed his way.

Without missing a beat, he dropped his chest to his board and turned it back to the coast, digging deep to push himself forward, trying to get a bit of speed before the wave could take him.

As he felt himself starting to be taken by the wave, he used his arms to push himself to his feet, giggling as water rushed over his toes before cutting hard and riding the length of the wave. He squatted and let his hand brush against the foam before the wave was one and he was floating on bobbing water again.

He dropped to his board and grinned, leaning back to let the first rays of sun illuminate his face.

It was a beautiful day, he had told himself, the perfect day for surfing.

\--

He was panting, muscles burning and his body buzzing with endorphins. He stretched, linking his fingers and pointing his palms to the sky feeling his shoulder muscles flex.

He didn’t know how long he had been out there, but the sun was nice and warm, and his skin prickled with the heat and he knew he was going to have some gnarly burns but he shrugged it off to start paddling further out to sea.

Distantly, he heard his name being called and looked back to shore to see his mother and younger brother waving from the beach.

He groaned, head lolling back against his shoulders as he petulantly kicked his legs under the water before waving back to let her know that he was coming in.

Grumbling under his breath, he looked forlornly out to the horizon before perking right up and hastily bringing his board around to catch his last wave of the day. As he felt the swell, he pushed himself to his feet and let the water carry him forward. He frowned, board shaking under him and he readjusted his feet, trying to steady the board.

Once it was smooth again, he cut to the side, watching the water out of the corner of his eye as it started to crest over his head and he beamed, reaching his hand out to run over the water.

It had happened in a split second, he had lost his balance for only a moment – something that he was ashamed to admit happened more times than he’d like – but this time was different. This time he couldn’t regain his balance and his board slipped out from under his feet.

He hit the water hard, trying to turn as he fell so he didn’t risk hitting his head on anything. He felt his board fly away, the leash snapping against his leg first one way then the other, dragging his helpless body through the water as the wave crashed over him, keeping him under.

His lungs burned, abdominal muscles straining trying to keep himself from opening his mouth to taste the brine and plankton and fish poop that was surrounding him. He couldn’t open his eyes, though, truthfully, he was holding them shut against the force of the wave.

Blindly, he reached for his leg and where the leash was attached to his ankle, using what felt like the last of his strength just to unpeel the Velcro from his leg.

He screamed, the last bit of air rushing from his lungs as he peeled the leash off and let his board fly to shore.

Clawing through the water fighting the current and straining to break surface, he gagged when he did, almost unbelieving when air struggled into his lungs.

He coughed, treading water as he tried to force himself to breathe instead of gag before he shook his head and started swimming to shore. He coughed again, lungs working on their own, scared that he had inhaled water, but he tried to ignore it as much as he could as he let his hands dig deep in the waves, legs kicking behind him powerfully as he motored through the choppy water.

He was blown away by the next wave that took him down, managing to grab half of a breath before he was under, disoriented and tossed around.

He shook his head before opening his eyes a crack and seeing the reef in front of him. He swam forward and up, barely breaking surface before another wave slammed into his back, shooting him back into the water.

Irate, he fought for the surface again, unrelenting even as the waved pounded into him, pulling the last bit of air from his lungs and tossing him like a ragdoll.

Before he knew it, another wave was crashing directly ahead, right in his face, shoving him backwards with the force of a train.

He felt the salty water in his mouth, in his nose, tearing at his hair and his shorts. Another wave crashed into his chest and he felt his body hit something, dragged sideways across the rough coral and he screamed – or, tried to.

His vision blacked out and he chest burned, water bubbling in his throat as his body made a last, pitiful effort to breathe for him.

\--

His eyes fluttered, body buzzing and head pounding as he fought to wake up. Was he asleep? He felt weird, something scratchy touching his skin and a light weight over his legs.

His mouth was dry and he coughed after trying to swallow, head turning and eyes clenching as he became aware of the harshness of the lights above him.

“Lance? Lance, mijo, [can you hear me] Lance? Open your eyes, Corazon.” His mother’s worried voice sounded from his left before he felt her hand brushing against the skin on his face, pushing his hair away from his forehead.

“Lance, [if you don’t want to open your eyes for Mami, you should open them for the hot doctor.]”

Lance’s chest huffed at his sister’s words and the sound of skin on skin, which he knew for sure was his mother reaching over to smack her and he managed to crack his eyes open to smile at her, “Ronnie, [you’re making me look like the only thing I care about is how attractive the people where I am are…] Speaking of which… Where am I?” His voice was rough around the edges, sleep still trying to hold him, and he cleared his throat once, sharply.

He looked around, unsurprised to see his family surrounding him, but surprised that Mama Rosa was the only one from his extended family around him. He blinked slowly, taking in the heart monitor and IV at his side as well as the uncomfortable bed he was laying on.

He paused, eyes jumping up again to his right, where a beautiful man in a white lab coat was standing next to another machine, one with random numbers that he couldn’t comprehend, and gave him a once over before huffing and turning his eyes back to his sister, “[Cute, but mullets really aren’t my type. Someone better tell this guy that its 2015, not 1984.]” She rolled her eyes at him before the doctor cleared his throat, pen snapping against the board before his attention dropped to Lance.

“Afternoon, welcome to America, Lonce.”

“Lance.”

“Whatever, anyway you were transported to this hospital… Two days ago. Fractured femur – shattered, actually.” He tapped his clipboard before flipping the page, “Mild concussion, other miscellaneous injuries your family is already aware of…” He flipped the page again, letting out a loud, slow breath, “We performed surgery as soon as you were stabilized, two transfusions as well as a rod through the femur to cement the bone. External rods to keep the pieces together. Stitches on the lacerations and your abrasions were debrided. Be glad you were asleep through all of this.”

He sighed once more and dropped the pages to the clipboard before looking up at Lance, “Any questions?”

Lance’s eyes widened before he blinked in confusion, face twisting up as he tried to process what had just been said to him, “So… Something broke-”

“Your femur.”

“I don’t know what that is.” Lance ignored the look on his face and continued, “How long until I can get back on a board?” he shifted on the bed, arm going under him before he winced, head falling against the pillow behind him as he sucked in air through his teeth. Once the pain died down, he reached down with his hand and pulled the hospital sheet down and the gown to the side, showing off his…. broken femur.

Lance’s eyes widened, unable to stop looking up and down the metal poking out from his sutured leg.

“It's not… that bad, Lance. You’ll be back out in a few months.” His eyes snapped up to Veronica’s, watching Luis drop his own eyes and turn around to pick up Marco and start walking out of the room, Mami following them.

“Ron,” He snapped, hands flying, palms open, to emphasize his leg and the mangled contraption sticking out of his skin. His hands paused before flapped insistently, “Look at my _fucking_ leg! This is _bullshit._ ” His hand flew up on its own accord, “I am _sorry,_ Mama Rosa. [My life is over as I know it. I’ll never be back on a board.]”

She scoffed and crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair, “[I understand your anger, but there really is no reason to use such language, Lance. Were you not raised better?]”

He groaned from his throat, head falling back on the pillow as his eyes stared at the ceiling and the harsh lights, the beeping of his heart monitor the soundtrack to his misery, “[Why are we in America? I want to go home. I want Oso.]”

The doctor coughed loudly and awkwardly, Lance’s head bobbing to the side to look at him again, “You will be on bed rest for the next few days and then you will be assessed for the start of your physical therapy. Your therapist will be…” He looked at his clipboard once more, “Shirogane. He’s the best.”

Lance’s father finally spoke up, moving forward from behind Veronica, “[The best? How much is this going to cost? I don’t think we can afford all of this effort, Doctor Jeon.]”

The doctor looked between Lance’s father and Lance, a bit confused but knowing the question was aimed at him.

“We don’t have the money for ‘the best.’” Lance sighed, hands coming up to slap over his eyes, “We probably don’t even have money for the surgery. Let alone the… Helicopter ride? The medications. The hospital stay. We don’t have the _money_ for this and I had to screw it up with my _fucking-_ ” He growled, hands tightening until he was pulling his hair and shoving his palms into his eye sockets.

“It’s all pro bono.” Doctor Jeon stated calmly fingers fiddling with the edge of his clipboard as he kept his eyes down, “Free.”

Lance couldn’t say anything, too busy trying to keep the lump in his throat from becoming an all out sob-fest, but he heard Veronica speak up for them, “Why would this hospital give out a surgery and its recovery for free?” Lance could hear the skepticism in her voice and wanted to smile about it.

“We have wealthy investors who tend to hand out much more than we can do with. Our chief doesn’t like spending money recklessly, so we have a pool set aside for pricey surgeries the patient may not be able to afford. As for this particular surgery and recovery… I would assume only a professional surfer would be able to afford it.” He sighed again, “I have other patients I need to tend to and visiting hours are almost over. The nurses desk can help with hotel stays if you need it.”

And then Lance heard shoes clicking against the tiled floor before the shuddering slam of the heavy door as the doctor left.


	2. Chapter Two

Being in the hospital was... Boring, to say the least. Lance was alone. His mom and siblings flew back to Cuba to start packing everything up and to get Oso for him. Mama Rosa had gone, after he begged her to take care of his goats as if he was there. She entertained him, patting his hand as he prattled on about his goats as if she hadn't had any of her own.

But that was yesterday. That was when his family had taken much too long to say goodbye as they all hugged and talked, and his mother cried. His father had stayed at the back, watching and waiting, and after the family left he had sat down next to Lance's bed and explained to him what was going on.

They were moving to Florida for his sake - just his immediate family - and he had tried to protest, but his father wasn't having it. They would be back soon, he told him, and then they were gone.

Soon wasn't soon enough for him. "The next nurse check in will be in..." He looked at the clock, trying to do the math before giving up, head falling back onto the hard pillow, “Five hours, probably. Leaving me alone to _wallow_ in my _misery_!” His voice rose as he looked over to the door, hoping someone would come in.

The television droned above him, playing Jeopardy with categories he knew nothing about.

Lance sighed, reclining on the bed and letting a sigh erupt from his throat. He heard the hustle and bustle of the hospital staff outside of his door and pouted, head rolling to stare at the wooden door, trying to see what was going on where he couldn't see. He fumbled by his side, reaching for the remote before slamming his finger on the call button repeatedly.

Almost immediately, a pretty nurse walked in with a frown on her face as she looked at him. That was to be expected, seeing as how it wasn’t the first time that morning that he had done that. To be honest he was surprised that she still came each time he pressed the button.

"Yes, Lance?" Her voice was bored, as she stated to walk closer to his bed, reaching out to snatch the remote from his hand, before pointing it at him threateningly, "What did I tell you about this? This is for emergencies." Her voice and accent were like softened butter on his ears – even if her words were sharper than a knife – and his body relaxed with it.

"It _is_ an emergency." Lance pouted, bottom lip flopping out as he batted his lashes at her for the hundredth time, "I'm _dying_ Allura. I am _perishing_ with boredom. I can't just sit here and do _nothing_."

"You _can_ , and you _will_." She took a deep breath to calm herself before darting her eyes over to the clock, "It's almost lunch time, Lance. Can you _please_ wait until your food gets here to annoy the staff any more? You aren’t the only patient I have to care for."

"I don't _want_ to be annoying." He groaned, feeling a bit of regret, hands slapping at the bed beside him in a fit, "I'm _bored_. There's no one to _talk_ to. Everyone's in Cuba and I'm in this boring room _alone_. I just want to talk to someone, _please_." He rolled his head back to Allura, batting his lashes, "Can you roll me somewhere, so I can talk to someone?"

"I'm not rolling you or your bed anywhere." Her voice was clipped, hip cocked, and arms crossed.

His head rolled again, pouting like a child, before his eyes landed on something across the room and his face lit up, "[Wheelchair!]" His hand came up to point it out to her, "Help me into the wheelchair and I won't bother you anymore! I'll be good! I just want to talk to someone!"

She shook her head immediately, tossing the remote onto the bedside table and out of his reach. "You just had surgery on your hip, Lance. You are going to be in pain if you try to sit in the wheelchair. I can't allow it. It hasn't been authorized."

His face fell and he sighed, letting his head fall back on the pillow and trying stubbornly to keep himself from crying. His upper lip trembled before he tightened his mouth and let his gaze drift up to the television. He heard a sigh by the door and looked over to see Allura moving to the wheelchair.

His heart jumped in his chest, but he swallowed his excitement, all too ready to be let down.

He watched her with bated breath as she rolled the wheelchair over to him and set the leg up for his injury. When it was done he watched her walk to the side of his bed and click the guard rails down before throwing his paperthin cover off.

She raised her eyebrow when he blinked and let out a short laugh, “I thought you wanted to get in the wheelchair?”

Nodding quickly, he started squirming around in his sheets, dull throbbing pain shooting up his hip even as she carefully wrapped his arm around her neck and helped stabilize his leg as he stood before almost falling into the wheelchair.

A huff came from his chest and he adjusted himself in the seat as Allura helped prop his leg, “Are you ok?”

He nodded and leaned to his uninjured side before blinking as a pillow was suddenly being thrust under his butt. Blinking, he relaxed into the pillow and nodded, “Thanks.”

Reaching down, Lance couldn’t keep the smile off his face any longer. As his fingers closed around the wheels he grinned up at Allura, who was standing with her arms crossed and a wary look on her face, and began moving the wheels backward.

He blinked in shock when his chair didn’t move and tried again, pouting when he heard something clicking and the wheelchair refusing to move.

“You’ve got to release the brake, I put it on so you didn’t fly to the floor. I’m going to show you where it is.” She bent down next to his right side as he bent over and watched curiously, “This lever is the parking brake for you to use and around the back is the foot brake, in case someone is pushing you around.”

“How do I do a wheelie?” He grinned but it faded at her icy glare, “Joke - it was a joke.”

She rolled her eyes and reached up to grab his IV bag before she moved around his wheelchair to unlock the foot brake and started pulling him backward to push him out of the room, “Ok, Lance. Where would you like to go?”

“I want to talk to someone.” He beamed up at her, spirits already lifted at the possibility of seeing something other than his empty room and stupid television.

She wheeled him around the floor and his excitement started to fall as he saw the other rooms with their doors closed and lights off, “What is everyone even _doing?”_ His voice was a whine and he leaned back to look at Allura’s face, “It’s the middle of the _day!”_

She looked at him and shook her head, “Where do you want me to drop you off, Lance? Quickly, or I’m going to take you back to your room and leave you there.”

He sighed and his head fell to his shoulder as he pouted before they turned the corner and he saw a slew of people hanging around the floor’s nurses’ station and he grinned, “There!”

“Lance, the nurses are working.”

“I won’t bother them! I can just listen! I just want to be around conversation, _please,_ Allura?” Looking up at her again, he batted his lashes and stuck out his bottom lip, hands coming up to his chest in a pleading gesture.

He blinked when a small beeping noise interrupted them and Allura pulled something out of her pocket, “Fine, Lance. You can go there, just don’t let me hear about you annoying anyone, ok? I have to go.”

She hurried forward before jerking his wheelchair to a close and popping the foot brake in the back and patting his head.

And then she and a few other nurses were gone, jogging off down the hall.

“You’re the surfer, aren’t you?” Lance looked up and blinked when he saw the pretty nurse with her blonde hair tied back.

He barely hesitated before immediately dropping a wink and his infamous smirk, “What was it that gave it away? My sun-kissed skin? Dashing good looks?”

“Nah, it was all that metal sticking out of your leg.” She gave her own smirk at his shocked face.

It took him only a moment before he threw his head back laughing.

“Ok, ok, that was a good one.” Lance wiped at his eye though he knew there were no tears and turned back to her, “What’s your name?”

“I’m Nyma.” She reached over the desk to extend her hand, “Nice to meet you.”

He reached up to kiss her hand, to no surprise if the rolling of her eyes was anything to go by, “Hernandez. Lance Hernandez. But you can call me _anytime._ ”

She laughed before patting his cheek, “You’re so adorable! If you were ten years older you might have a chance!”

“Eh, worth a try.” Lance grinned and let her take her hand back.

“So you’re from Puerto Rico, right?”

“I’m offended.” He gasped, “I am a bona fide, hot blooded _Cuban.”_

“How could I ever get them confused.” Her voice went monotone before she rolled her eyes again and rolled her chair out from behind the desk, “[What was it like growing up there?]”

“[You speak spanish? Holy shit!]”

“[Yeah, I’m Dominican.]” She laughed at his face, “[Is it the hair?]”

“[I don’t _want_ to say yes, but… Yeah.]”

She waved him off, “It’s alright. It’s not my real color. But you didn’t answer my question.”

He blinked for a moment before snapping his fingers, “Oh, living in Cuba. Right. So I was born and bred there and actually this is my very first time being off the island. My abuelita owns and runs a restaurant and we also have a shop for tourists, like renting out boards. I also give lessons.”

“Sounds like a bunch of fun.” She pointed her finger at his hip while keeping her eyes on him, “So was this from teaching someone?”

“Nah, I got caught by some asshole waves over a reef.”

“Gnarly.” She whistled before rolling back behind the desk just in time to greet someone.

Lance looked up, almost having forgotten where he was, and saw his doctor standing there, grunting and scratching his pen across a few clipboards and handing them off to Nyma.

“Room 313 can be discharged when his parents get here; 328 is feeling nauseated, so keep an eye on her. And 303’s parents want to take him - them - home for the weekend.” He finished with his notes and started putting his pen away to turn and go about his duties when his eyes fell on Lance.

Lance was relaxed, leaning back in his chair with his bad leg propped up and comfy and his arms crossed over his chest, “Sup Doc?”

“324, why are you out of your room?” His eyes narrowed in confusion.

“I _do_ have a name.” Lance sneered, pushing himself out of his relaxed position, “I’m not a prisoner!”

Doctor Jeon blinked in confusion, “No one said you _were_ a prisoner? All I did was ask why you are out here jabbering with the nurses when you should be resting! You had major surgery recently!”

“Resting is _boring!”_ Lance snapped.

“It isn’t supposed to be an amusement park! Resting is _supposed_ to be _boring!_ ”

Lance could see by the way his hand was gripping the counter and how strained his voice was, that he was trying not to yell at him.

Lance scoffed, “So this _is_ a prison.”

“It is _not!”_

Lance scoffed again and rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair.

When Doctor Jeon didn’t continue, Lance glanced up to see the God of Thunder himself, standing behind his doctor. His hand was on Jeon’s shoulder, and somehow Jeon looked more annoyed than angry.

Lance blinked when Adonis’s look-alike moved around Jeon to reach out a hand and offer the most dazzling smile Lance had ever seen, “Hi!” His voice was like soft caramel and Lance’s throat went dry, “I’m Takashi Shirogane, but everyone just calls me Shiro.”

“I’m Lance, and you’re beautiful. Are you free this Friday?”

Everyone around the desk laughed but Shiro and Jeon, the latter having his nose in another patient file. Shiro gave a small chuckle as a blush took over his cheeks, though, and shook Lance’s hand, “That’s very generous, but I’m spoken for.”

“Of course you are. A good looking guy like you? He better respect the _fuck_ out of you.” Lance whistled before taking his hand back.

“Yeah, I think he respects,” He paused, “The _‘fuck’_ out of me.” He turned to look over his shoulder, at what Lance couldn’t tell, “He sometimes overschedules me, but no one is perfect.”

Lance rolled his eyes before shifting back to look at Nyma, “Ok, so the best wave I’ve ever ridden had to have been when I was like… Twelve or something, right? It was _right_ at sunset and after that amazing wave, the water started to settle. So I laid back on my board, right? And then _all of a sudden_ I was surrounded by _dolphins._ It was _amazing._ ”

“Hey, Lance?” Lance looks up to see Shiro waving at him with a small smile, “This wasn’t just a meet and greet. I’m your physical therapist and we have a consult today!”

Lance blinked before pouting and dropping more into his chair, “But that sounds boring.”

“This isn’t an amusement park-”

“Keith.” Shiro’s words were clipped as he moved to the back of Lance’s chair. He released the brake and started to wheel him away.

“I _need_ his vitals!”

“You can get them when I’m done!”

Lance heard Shiro call back and he sighed to himself. “Also, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I can’t really do anything physical? I kind of have a busted up leg.”

Shiro laughed good naturedly and gave his shoulder a quick pat, “We have ways of getting your heart rate up without using your legs.”

“ _Great._ ”

\--

“Alright, Lance. Let me help you out of your chair.”

Lance frowned, watching Shiro move around his wheelchair as he tried not to look around and see the other things in the gym, “Shiro, this is a bike.”

“Yeah.”

He felt hands under his armpits and his left foot on the ground to help stabilize him as he moved to stand from the wheelchair. His face pulled in and his hands immediately gripped Shiro’s shoulders as his center of gravity shifted and pain radiated from his hip down his leg.

He hissed as Shiro helped navigate him to the stationary bike and helped sit him down.

Lance took a minute as Shiro moved his wheelchair out of the way to collect himself and tried to move around in the cushion before wincing and giving up. He leaned back against the seat back and let out a breath, “This is a _bike._ ”

He heard a laugh and felt a hand come down on his shoulder comfortingly, “I _know_ , Lance. Here, open your eyes. There are pedals for your hands. Just because you can’t use your leg doesn’t mean you can’t get your heart rate up.”

When Lance opened his eyes and looked up to glare at his therapist, he saw a beautiful, innocent smile beaming down at him and he sighed before slumping forward to find and put his hands on the pedals as told.

“It’s only three minutes, Lance. I think you’ll survive.”

He grunted before pressing buttons on his touch screen to bring up trails to bike on. When satisfied with a choice, he started to pump his arms with an over-exaggerated sigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're enjoying this so far~


	3. Chapter Three

Lance grumbled, pulling his thin hospital sheet closer to his face when he heard staff come in, probably to check on his roommate’s IV - cancer, chemo, the whole nine - but groaned when he heard his own curtain being pulled open.

“Leave me  _ alone.  _ Take the nerd squad to learn about some other loser. ‘M  _ sleep. _ ” He punctuated his outburst with a harsh yank of his blanket, frowning as it exposed his toes and their wonderfully neon pink polish to the brisk morning air.

The blanket was thrown from his leg and he grumbled as he was prodded and his information was read out loud.

Sighing, Lance did his best to settle into the bed and ignore the doctors, closing his eyes and regulating his breathing to attempt to fall back to sleep.

He felt as the sheet was pulled back over him as his consciousness started to fade, “You’re being discharged today.”

It was the last thing he remembered before he was lost to the world.

\--

When he wakes up next, his mom is at his bedside, one of his hands clasped between hers and folded against her head as she prayed quietly.

He yawned, stretching automatically before wincing and curling back up in his sheet, “[What are you doing, Ma? I thought you had to work late today.]”

‘[I’m taking you home, mijo.]” She smiled and dropped his hand to reach forward and brush his hair out of his face.

His heart leapt, energy racing through his body as his soul longed for the shores of Cuba, “[When does the plane leave? When will we be back home, Mama? I’m ready!]”

The shocked and pitying look on her face had his heart stuttering, reality sinking in and weighing him back down into the bed, “We aren’t going to Cuba.”

It wasn’t a question.

She gave his good leg a soft pat before standing up and collecting her rosary, “[I’m going to get something to eat, would you like anything?]”

Lance shook his head before adjusting and rolling onto his back. “[Actually, can you get me some water? I’m a little thirsty.]”

“[Of course, mijo.]” She immediately helped him to some water, petting his hair again. “[Anything else?]”

“[Nah. You go ahead and get something to eat. I’m going to get ready to leave. Say my goodbyes. You know.]” he forced a laugh to try to put her at ease, though he didn’t know how well it worked, “[Is everyone already there? Well, I know everyone is at school and Papa is at work, but is everything moved in?]”

She was already on her way out the door when he asked, but she stopped to turn to him with a smile, “[Yes. Remember, it’s only temporary, my love.]”

\--

Using his crutches unguided proved harder than anticipated, the rubber under his armpits rubbing him raw. His arms started to burn before he was out of the hospital, but he refused to complain about it, opting instead to grit his teeth and ignore the pain.

The car ride was amazingly quiet, his mother only asking his comfort level three times before turning up the stereo and letting the soothing sound of Celia Cruz’s voice fill the car.

He doesn’t remember much about the car ride, probably having fallen asleep, but the jerking of the car as it rumbled to a stop pulled his attention to a pretty mansion.

“[ _ This _ is where we’re staying? Ma! This had to have cost a  _ fortune!]”  _ Lance’s voice was shrill, half with shock and half with the pain that radiated from him jerking around to face her.

She sighed, “[Calm down, Lance. We’re only renting it.]”

Lance groaned overdramatically, rolling his eyes as he opened his door. He scratched at his stubbly cheek before stumbling out and catching himself on the door.

Suddenly his mom was there, one hand on his shoulder, “[Are you ok, mijo?]”

Waving her off, he pulled his crutches under him and took a deep breath, “[I’m kinda tired, Mama. Can you show me my room?]”

“[Of course, Lance. Though, your siblings picked a room upstairs for you, I hope that’s okay?]”

He shook his head and started walking, “[It’s fine.]” Looking up at her, he smiled before focusing back on the house and beginning to take it in in full. Ivy was growing up the sides of the walls and cute lawn ornaments decorating the otherwise empty garden.

Inside was sparsely furnished, just enough to remind him of home but with furniture and decorations that probably had come with the house. He saw a few family photos front and center and his lips quirked just a bit before his attention was drawn back to his mother and the simple, almost hidden, staircase that now required his attention.

“[Did you work on being able to go up and down stairs by yourself?]”

Lance laughed a little, most of his weight on his good leg and the bannister with his other arm around his mother’s shoulders, “Uhhh….. I don’t really know how to answer that specifically. I got pissed with Jeon and ran off and ended up in a stairwell. Scooted down two floors before exhausting myself. Shiro found me. So, I  _ kinda  _ worked on stairs. Went down. A little up. Not really supervised. No need to reprimand me, Shiro took care of it with a bunch of work outs.” he grunted as they finally reached the top step and self consciously wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead.

She shook her head as she gave him a few moments to recuperate before handing his crutches over, “[Lance.]” 

He huffed as he took them and began to pad off, “Where’s my room?”

“[To the right, mijo. And you have a bathroom right next door. Do you need anything? Are you hungry? Thirsty? Cold? Hot?]”

“[I’m fine, Ma. Just tired. Well, I’m in a little pain, so I think sleeping could help with that.]” He nudged the door open, clicked the light on, and smiled, “[This is amazing, Mama. Thank you. Wait. Are those dog beds? Is Oso here?]”

“[Not yet, love.]” She moved to his bedside table to start rummaging around before pulling a bag of pills out and setting it on top, “[I’m going to go get you some water, get yourself comfortable, but don’t hesitate to call for me, ok?]”

He grunted before hopping over to the bed and quickly putting his crutches on the floor before helping himself into a controlled fall to keep weight off his hip. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment before the uneven tugging of his shirt and shorts on his body forced him into a sitting position.

Groaning, he slowly peeled his shirt off.

It was then that his mother walked back into the door with a glass of water in her hand, “[Here, love.]”

“[Thank you, Mama,]” He reached out for the glass and took a sip as his mother once more began rustling around in his medicine to get him some pills. “[Which ones are these again?]”

“[For the pain.]” She murmured, placing the pills in his hand before combing her fingers through his hair, “[Sleep, mijo. I’m going to get started on dinner. Feel better, ok?]”

He grunted as he tossed the pills in his mouth and gulped the rest of the water down, “[Kay, I’m going to sleep. Can you close the door, please?]”

Laughing, his mother took his glass before tucking him into his bed and helping him cover up, “[I’ll close it most of the way, Lance, but I want to keep it open just in case.]” She kissed his head before slowly moving out of his room and closing the door less than halfway.

He understood her worry. Didn’t like it one bit, because his door was open, but understood it.

He did his best to turn his head away from the door and close his eyes to fall asleep, the medication helping easing his hurt and laying a blanket of fogginess back over his mind.

He doesn’t know how long he lays there with the fogginess overwhelming him, but not pulling him under as much as he wished. 

Bleary, he slapped his hand to the side, sleep weighing his limb down as he reached for the bedside table that housed his phone.

Distantly he heard a clattering as his hand knocked into something and pushed it over before his fingers brushed over the smooth glass of his phone. He groaned as he clasped it and pulled it closer, scrunching his face before opening his eyes slightly and turning the device on.

“Mu….siiiiiiic….” He groaned, numb fingers blundering over the screen to flip through the apps to find the right one. It took but a second for the upbeat yet soothing sounds of Manic Monday to start playing through his speakers and he dropped his phone to the bed beside his head and closed his eyes again, arms falling where they may as sleep started to take him again.

\--

Next thing he knew there were weights in bed with him and an amazingly delicious smell pulling him out of his sleep. His music wasn’t playing any longer, but something else was and he groaned, stretching his arms above himself, ignoring the grumblings of his siblings as he shifted on the bed.

“Guh, shuddup. My bed.” 

“[Lance, be nice to your siblings. And here, sit up so you can eat your food.]”

Lance groaned, lifting his head up to pull his pillow out to put it over his face, “[Don’t wanna…]”

“[Lance, I’ve already waited long enough for you to wake up on your own. Now that you’re up you need to try to eat something.]” She was right beside his bed now, he could tell, even though his pillow was muffling everything. She sighed before he heard her hand slap her thigh, “[Luis, Veronica, please take your brother downstairs.]”

There was multiple voices of indignation before the weight on the bed started to shift again and the room was quiet again.

Slowly, Lance peeled the pillow off his face and saw his mother still standing over his bed with a plate of food, looking at him in a way that he knew meant business.

Sighing, Lance put his weight into his elbows to help push himself into a sitting position in a way to keep pressure off his hip.

“Ok. I guess I’m a little hungry, Mama.” He reached for his plate and rolled his eyes good naturedly when she dropped a kiss on his head before handing him the plate.

“[Do you need something to drink? Do you need to use the bathroom?]”

Blushing, Lance cringed, dropping his gaze to his plate, “ _ Ma!  _ C’mon.” He grumbled before shoving a forkful of rice in his mouth, “[Actually, do we have any peach mango smoothie?]”

She nodded and rubbed her fingers through his hair once more before turning to leave and get his drink for him.

When she left, his bladder made its presence known and he gently put his plate down and grumbled under his breath, refusing to admit his mother was right. He pushed himself to his feet before grabbing his crutches and struggling to his feet.

The air rushed from his lungs as he took his first step, closing his eyes against the dizzying effect of blood rushing to his head, and continued on until he was bumping into the wall near his door.

He huffed and opened his eyes to see his mom coming up the steps with his drink in hand, a second glass with water also in hand, and he smiled, “[Hi, Mama. I’m going to the bathroom, but you can just put that on the table for me. Thank you.]”

“[Do you need help?]”

“[No, Mama.]” He sighed and pulled himself out of his room to spin around to the bathroom.

“[I’ll be right here, Lance. If you need me. Don’t lock the door!]”

“Mom!” Lance pushed the door closed behind him before blowing out a raspberry and moving closer to the toilet. There was a sudden knocking and his mother’s voice once more asking if he was alright and he almost squeaked, “[Mom! Let me pee! I can do this by myself!]”

It took no time at all for Lance to feel better, but he still took some extra time by himself to breathe, jumping at the loud knocking that startled him so bad he almost lost his balance and fell, “[Lance, are you ok? Do you need any help? Your food is getting cold.]”

“Yeah, I’m fine, mom. Coming out now.” He rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything as he unlocked the door to find his mother and the ever constant expression of worry trying to hide on her face, “[What’s wrong?]”

“[I need to go back to work tomorrow, or I risk losing my job…]” She was hesitant, reaching out to adjust the way he was carrying himself on his crutches and smoothing over his shoulders.

Confused, he leaned over onto the doorframe and pulled the crutches out from under his arms, “[I figured you’d have to, sooner or later. You can’t stay here and take care of me forever.]”

“[I know, mijo, I’m just… I don’t want you to get hurt here by yourself.]” She let out a heavy breath and met his eyes.

“[I have my phone on me at all times, Mom. I can call you if anything happens. And you can call me if you need to.]” His voice was hesitant as he pushed himself off the wall, “[I’ll be fine.]”

“[I know. I still worry.]” She patted his chest before shaking her head, “[Never the matter, go eat, mijo. Your drink is melting.]”

“Love you, Mama.” Lance kissed her cheek before heading back to his room to find Luis chilling on his bed, drinking a peach mango smoothie. “If that’s mine, I don’t care how bad my hip is busted, I’m going to kick your ass back to Cuba.”

He smacked his lips and took another deep drag of a straw, “Don’t get your paper panties in a twist, Lancito. Mama left yours right there.” He tossed his hand to the side before returning to the tablet in his lap and pulling the bar back a few seconds, “Kay, lemme alone.”

Scoffing, Lance eased himself onto his bed before grabbing his plate and scooting back to relax next to his brother, “Why are you even here? Go to your own room.” He was shushed again and Lance pouted before beginning to eat his dinner again, “What are you watching?”

“Netflix.” 

Lance almost reached over to smack his head.

Almost.

“You missed me?”

“Don’t even like you. Talk too much.” Luis grumbled before slurping the rest of his shake down, “But when you’re here Mama isn’t paying attention to me.”

Lance laughed softly before grabbing his own drink and settling in to try to catch up on the show with him without leaning too far on his hip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delayed post! Real life events, you know how it is ^^'  
> Hope you enjoy <3


	4. Chapter Four

Fire exploded over all of Lance’s senses before he realized what was happening, pressure raining down on his chest, and his lungs incapable of drawing in air.

His muscles seized before he started flailing, trying to find his way to air, eyes popping open wild but unable to see. Everything was dark. Blood was roaring in his ears and suddenly something erupted from his chest, tearing from his throat. 

The weight on his chest ran down his body, slamming on his bad him with such a weight that had the world stopping as a metaphorical bucket of ice drenched Lance from inside out.

The light snapped on as the door slammed open, Lance barely recognizing his mother in the doorway as he howled in pain, body shaking as he both tried to stay still and tried to put his hands over the pain to apply pressure. His breathing was ragged and he could suddenly feel rivulets of tears streaming down his neck to collect in his collar bone.

There was something at his lips and a hand in his sweaty hair, gently rubbing him to help calm him down, and a soothing voice urging him to take a sip.

Still hyperventilating, he tried. Unable to stop himself, Lance found himself sucking the water down without stopping to breathe before pulling the cup away to cough, the water coming back up to soak him and his bed. He was still trembling, but his mother’s calm voice was there and her hands were touching him and urging him to go slower.

He whimpered before bringing the glass back up to take a small sip.

“[Can you take this, mijo?]” She pressed some medicine into his palm and he nodded before slowly popping it into his mouth before taking it down with another few steady sips of water. “[Marco forgot you weren’t feeling well and was trying to wake you up for breakfast. Are you hungry?]”

He let out a strangled sob before shaking his head, “[I just want to sleep, Mama. It  _ hurts. _ ]”

She pet his head gently and kissed his head, “[Ok, Lance. Sleep well, love. I’m going to stay home with you ok? I’m not going to work.]”

He shook his head, “[Go to work. I’ll be fine. I’m probably just going to sleep all day. Don’t risk your job for me, ok? I’ll be fine. I love you.]”

She let out a long sigh but waited until he got settled back into his bed, using one of his blankets under his back to soak up the water instead of laying in a puddle or getting up to change his sheets at the moment, before giving him a soft kiss on his forehead, “[I love you, more, Lance.]”

Lance could feel himself still trembling, but the drugs were taking effect sooner than he thought possible and his eyes started to close and his body relax enough for his unconscious to take over.

\--

_ He feels the lapping at his shoulders, curling around his body and caressing his face. Even though he’s in the sea, even though he’s home in the water, he doesn’t feel right. He doesn’t have his board. He doesn’t have his family. _

_ He’s alone. _

_ Lance tries to pull himself up, to look around, to try to find land, and over the crest of a wave he sees the tops of sand dunes, but before he can move any further the waves start to get rough around him. _

_ No longer do they caress him like a lover, now they tug and push him like a jealous sibling fighting for the last slice of cake. _

_ He tried to keep himself afloat but found his limbs felt like they had been injected with lead. His limbs wouldn’t move and he tried to stay calm, but the waves kept getting rougher and the sky continued to darken overhead. _

_ There was a loud booming of thunder before Lance took his last breath and a wave crashed over his head, throwing his body around as if he were weightless. _

_ His lungs started to burn as he continued to hold his breath, opening his eyes to the sea, looking out into the vastness of the water one last time before letting go. The edges of his vision began to darken, chest tightening without air. _

\--

Lance jolted awake, gasping as his hand flew to his chest. The dream raced from his memory as he looked at the ceiling, looking for the small imperfections of home. When he couldn’t find them, he frowned, and closed his eyes, “Surfing. Injury. America.”

It took a deep breath to bring him back to the moment, but he sighed and started to sit up, smiling when he noticed the full glass of water on his night stand, “[Thanks, Mom.]” He mumbled as he reached over to grab it and take a sip.

His stomach rumbled quietly and Lance groaned before pulling himself to his feet once more. His limbs were heavy and he slowly rolled his neck to get the kinks out before situating his crutches under himself and moving to his door.

It was odd being in a new, quiet house by himself, but he shrugged and carefully made his way downstairs, gripping the banister as if it were the only thing between him staying alive and him laying at the bottom of the floor for a few hours. Well, in a way… It was.

When he made it to the bottom, he let out a soft sigh and smiled victoriously before making his way through the halls to the kitchen.

He stopped in the hallway when he heard something clatter to the floor behind him though and frowned, clumsily turning around to find one of his abuelita’s decorations on the floor. “Did I do that? Oops. Hope I didn’t break it.” He moved to bend down before pausing and groaning. 

Trying to bend at the waist proved difficult as well.

A few other contortions all came to the same conclusion: Lance was helpless from picking up his abuelita’s decoration.

He sucked his teeth before moving to lean against the wall, “Stupid hip.”

He scratched his face again, absently thinking about how he needs to shave, before whining and pulling himself back to his feet, “What was I doing?” He bobbed his head first one way then the other before scratching at his neck and chest.

His stomach rumbled and he lifted an eyebrow before humming, “I’m hungry. Wait, where’s my phone. Shit. Mama might have called me… Oooh I’m going to get in  _ trouble… _ ” He let out a loud and overdramatic groan before moving back to the stairs.

There was a slight instance of a tantrum as Lance laid his crutches on the stairs and turned to sit down and start his slow scoot backwards up the stairs pulling his crutches with him every few steps.

Pausing halfway up, he wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his wrist and panted heavily for a moment before taking a deep breath and continuing up the stairs. When he made it to the top, he eased back until he was laying down and took a moment, face scrunching against the discomfort and slight tingling in his hip.

The house started creaking, settling, and Lance shivered and the stairs groaned before he slapped the floor and rolled over to push himself to his feet, “Stupid good for nothing -  _ shit!  _ I should wash my hip! I gotta! Ok I can do this!” 

He grabbed his crutches and made his way to the bathroom, before pausing and closing his eyes, “I need to get my phone first. Phone, then hip. Then sleep. I can do it. This is so fucking tiring.” He sighed before pivoting and moving into his room.

He pushed his blanket closer to his bed, something niggling the back of his mind about it but ignoring it, before grabbing his phone from his pillow and checking his phone for missed calls.

There were three and he grumbled, opening his screen to see who they were from. His mother, of course. All within the last ten minutes. As soon as he had deduced that, another call started coming in, startling him and causing him to almost dropping his phone but catching it at the last minute and answering the call, “[Mama! Hi! How are you?]”

“[Lance? Are you ok? Do you need me to come home? Why didn’t you answer your phone, mijo?]’

“I’m sorry, I was in the bathroom and then I was on my way downstairs when I heard your call. I was just about to call you back.” He lied smoothly, grimacing as he moved to sit back on his bed before rubbing around his hip through his shorts. “[I’m fine, a little tired, still. Kind of sore. How are you, Mama. How is work?]”

“[“I’m fine, Lance. You should go back to sleep, honey. I’ll be home in a few hours and I’ll have Marco and I’ll get started on dinner. Are you sure you don’t need me to come home?]” Her tone was pinched in worry and the corner of Lance’s mouth turned up.

“Mom. Stop worrying. I’m fine. I haven’t burned down the house or broken another bone yet. Love you.”

“[Love you too. Stay safe.]”

Hanging up, Lance tossed the phone back onto the mussed pillow and gathered his crutched to stand back up, “Clean hip, then sleep.” He let out a heavy sigh and began his shuffle to the bathroom.

Knocking the door open with the rubber on the end of the crutch, Lance then elbowed the light on and bullied his way inside. He rested the crutches on the back wall and frowned, washing his hands thoroughly before gathering his supplies and turning around to lean his back against the sink.

He pulled his shorts down far enough to expose his fixator and sighed at the sight, stomach turning and throat closing slightly at the memory as it did each time he cleaned the site.

Lance grumbled under his breath before emptying his mind and methodically moving through the steps to ensure his pin sites were clean, reciting each step under his breath as he did them and double checking afterwards.

When he was done, he tossed his dirty supplies and pulled his shorts back up and washed his hands again, refusing to look at himself in the mirror before slapping the light off and fumbling for his crutches to return to his room.

It took almost too much effort for Lance to ease himself into his bed and he moved to pull his blanket over himself before he realized it was on the floor and frowned before letting out the smallest of whines and reaching over the side to pull it up without moving his body too much. Once he got it up, he covered himself and sighed, pulling it tight and closing his eyes, already feeling himself falling asleep.

\--

“Lance.” There was a voice in his ear, something poking his cheek, and he scrunched his face against it. He wanted to fall back into his dream, feeling it fading as the probing continued, the sweet smell of pastry pulling him from the dream even more, “Lance, Mama said I have to wake you up to feed you and make you eat something.”

“Not hungry.” He lied, stomach growling. Distantly he tried to remember if he had eaten earlier. He remembered being hungry and going downstairs, but couldn’t recall if he had eaten or not. “Fine. I’ll eat something. What do you have?”

“Pasteles.” Veronica’s voice brightened as he cracked his eyes open and rubbed at them, “And rice and chicken. Mom said you have to take more medicine.”

Lance grunted and pulled himself up on his bed, frowning at his blanket, mostly on the floor again, “Did you take my blanket?” She shook her head and he frowned harder before ignored it. Rubbing the sleep from his face, Lance yawned loudly and binked a few more times before looking back at his sister and the plate of food in her hand, “What time is it?”

She offered him a cup of water and he accepted it graciously, only then noticing how weird his mouth felt, “I don’t know. Like, five or something? Maybe six? Luis is watching tv and Marco was asleep last time I checked. I think Abuela put Oso on a plane this morning, so he should be here tonight. Late tonight, though. Dad’s going to get him for you.”

Lance tried to hide his smile as he grabbed his phone and sent off a quick text to his cousin to tell him to give his grandmother a big hug and a lot of kisses for him before turning back to Ronnie, “I thought you were supposed to be feeding me?” He wagged his eyebrows and chuckled at her pout before she shoved the warm plate toward his hands.

“As if, vegetable boy.” She snorted before chewing her lip.

He started in on the pastry, eyelids fluttering as the buttery bread overwhelmed his senses and the warm, sweet center exploded over his tongue. He was in heaven and almost forgot to chew through it before swallowing.

“Lance?” Her voice was quiet and when he opened his eyes and focused on his younger sister, he saw her fiddling with a corner of the blanket, “I don’t…. [I don’t like it here. Like, the house is ok, but it’s really big and empty. I miss my room. I miss the beach. I miss everyone. I miss my friends.]”

Bile started to claw its way up Lance’s throat and he clenched his teeth against her defeated tone, “Ronnie, I-”

“[I don’t blame you.]” She interrupted sharply, snapping her eyes up to his face, “[Shut up, it could have happened to any one of us. Luis is always getting knocked off his board.]”

He took a deep breath before looking down at his plate of food and forcing a bite of rice and chicken into his mouth.

“I love you, Lancito. Just, hurry up and get better so we can go home, ok?” She smiled at him and reached out to touch his arm.

“I’ll do what I can.” He muttered, a small smile also tugging at the corner of his own mouth, “Are you going to be up with Dad to get Oso?”

“Nah Mama said no one is allowed, not even Luis.” Pouting, she moved closer to sit on the floor right next to him.

He sucked his teeth and handed her half of his pastele, “Worth a try, where is he going to sleep tonight though? I don’t want him to come in here in case he jumps on the bed…. Cause… Kinda don’t want to go through that again…”

“What do you mean  _ again? _ ”

“Oh, you haven’t heard?” 

She shook her head as he scooped some more rice into his mouth, looking over to his window curiously, thinking he had seen something. He shook his head and looked back to Veronica, “Marco decided to wake me up by jumping on my chest and hip this morning. I almost  _ died,  _ Ronnie. He almost broke my hip again.” He scoffed and peeled off a bit of the buttery crust of the pasty to nibble it, “It was probably worse than the initial break. I can’t even remember what  _ that  _ felt like.”

“You’re just a baby.” Giggling, she leaned her head back until she was barely brushing against his knee through the blanket.

He mumbled out the same sentence mockingly, shaking his head and curling his lip, before shoving the rest of his dinner in his mouth, “And you’re a brat.” He wiped his hands off over the plate before grabbing his glass of water to finish it off, “Have anymore water? I’m dying.”

“And you need to take your medicine.” She added pointedly. 

He grunted non-committedly and shrugged, moving the empty plate to the bedside table and stretching his legs out as much as he could under him. He watched as she fluidly pulled herself to her feet and moved to the drawer to start pulling out his pills and handing them to him to take.

He coughs after everything is down before handing the bottle over and wiping his mouth with the back of his arm and batting his wet lashes, managing to use his croaky voice to manipulate his sister, “Come cuddle me to sleep?”

“Stop being a baby and maybe I will.” Muttering, she turned off his light before she walked to the other side of his bed, Lance frowning at the shape in the window before he blinked and it was gone. He looked back up as she eased into the bed beside him, letting him scooch down until he was comfortable, and she curled up against his good side.

Her head was on his chest, hand under her chin, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulder before hesitating and moving to her hair to scratch her scalp instead. She sighed and he continued with a small smile. “Thanks, Ron.” His voice was quiet in the dark, almost a whisper.

“For what?”

“For not hating me.”

“You’re my brother. There’s always a little hate there.”

He yanked a piece of her hair, snorting as she pinched his side in retaliation. “Brat.”

Lance licked his lips and let out a deep breath, feeling his eyes start to flutter closed and his body relax.

\--

The next time he woke was the easiest in a while and he stretched his arms above him, smiling before reaching over to turn on his lamp.

He huffed a small laugh when he saw that his plate and everything was cleaned up but his bottle of water was still there and he happily grabbed it for a sip. Once he was down, he grabbed his phone and moved to settle back down against his headboard when something at his window caught his eye and he looked up at see a strange man sitting in his windowsill.

It took almost two seconds for a scream to erupt from his mouth and he tossed his phone, the momentum throwing his balance wildly off and causing him to fall in a heap on the floor. He scrambled to his hands, backing up until his back slammed into the bedside table, light jerking wildly and throwing shadows around the room. 

Lance’s eyes couldn’t move from the man, who had turned to gape at him when he had first screamed.

The bedroom door slammed open and Lance almost looked over, but couldn’t move. Suddenly his mother was there, hands on his face and giant puffy robe blocking his vision and he tries to look at her, he really does, but his attention can’t help but jump back to the strange man and his strange hair across the room every once in a while.

“[Lance, sweetheart, are you ok? Why did you scream? Are you hurt? Lance? Did you hit your head, honey?]” Her hands were moving over him, checking his head and body and making sure his hip was fine but he couldn’t  _ focus.  _

_ Why isn’t she beating that guy to death with her  _ chancla?  _ He’s just  _ staring  _ at us! Why is he in my  _ room? Lance’s breathing was ragged and when his mom snapped in front of his face to catch his attention, he jerked back on reflex and slammed his head into the night stand again.

His bottle of water tipped cautiously before falling onto his bumped head and he flinched. “Ow.” Wincing, he reached up to rub at his head, “S-sorry, Mama. I saw… A rat. I think. It was on my bed.”

She looked at him for a few more moments and it took everything for him to keep his eyes on her instead of looking over at the man in the window. She let out a breath before nodding and standing up to make her way to the end of his bed, grabbing her slipper off her foot as she did.

Slowly, she grabbed his covers and yanked them up, ready for a rodent to jump out to run away.

“[There’s nothing here, mijo.]” She sighed and put her slipper back on before tucking his covers back away and turning to help him to his feet and dust him off, “[Come, let me get you some soup.]”

Lance laughed a little, “I don’t need soup, Mama. Thanks. I just need to go back to sleep.”

She frowned, but tucked him in nonetheless.

“Oh…. My phone… I threw it at - at the rat. Can you get it for me?”

Huffing, his mother made her to the end of his bed again, looking for his phone before exclaiming and slapping her hand against her thigh, “[Why is it all the way over here, Lance? Stop throwing this thing before it breaks! I’m not going to buy you another one!]” 

Smacking his teeth and rolling his eyes, Lance pouted and pulled his covers closer to his face, taking the time to observe the stranger again. He was looking out of the window again, back turned to Lance and his mother and acting like they weren’t even there. It was  _ odd. _

“[Here, mijo.]” She set the phone on his nightstand and leaned over to kiss his head before moving to turn off the lamp.

“W-wait!” He cleared his voice and rubbed at his mouth when she turned to him curiously, “Can you leave the light on in case the rat comes back?”

“[Are you sure you’re ok? I can make you soup? Warm you up something to eat?]”

He shook his head hurriedly, “I’m not hungry, just a little spooked. Thank you, but I’m fine.” He tried to give a reassuring smile, but was worried it came off more as a grimace.

It took a few more minutes of her staring at him before she kissed his head again, made sure he was tucked in sufficiently, and left his room with the door closed.

Lance waited until her footsteps couldn’t be heard any longer before sitting up and turning to the stranger across from him. He studied him for another second. He was big, Lance definitely wouldn’t be able to take him if anything got physical, but if he had two good legs he might’ve been able to outrun him. 

He was dressed weird, too comfortable to be in someone else’s room, and he was wearing a  _ bandana?  _

“Who the hell are you and why are you in my room?” The words were out before he could think, snappish and cold. Ready to get down to the situation at hand.

The man whipped around, hair and bandana flying as his eyes widened. He didn’t say anything for a few minutes, Lance waiting patiently for an explanation, before his eyebrows pinched and he started to turn back to the window without saying anything.

“Hey! I’m talking to you! Don’t ignore me! Who are you?”

His eyes snapped back to Lance quickly and his mouth opened, gaping like a fish for a moment before he reached up to point at himself, “Are you talking to… Wait. Can you - Can you  _ see  _ me?”

Confused - because why wouldn’t Lance be able to see an intruder in his own room? He wasn’t blind. - Lance quirked his eyebrow and nodded an affirmative.

The man was across the room in a flash and - ok, maybe Lance wouldn’t have been able to outrun him even with two good legs because he hadn’t even  _ seen  _ him move - crowded into Lance’s space, grinning like a buffoon.

He had a wild look on his face, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, and ran his fingers through his messy hair, “Wow! Ok, this is! This is  _ huge!  _ You can  _ see  _ me! We’re  _ talking!  _ Oh gosh I think I’m going to throw up - or pass out. Or both. Both is a  _ definite  _ possibility.”

Lance recoiled slightly, a little overwhelmed by the intensity, and looks to either side of room like there’s going to be a hidden camera and someone ready to jump out and yell “Pranked!”

The big guy sat back and calmed down, eyebrows raised expectantly as he stared at Lance, waiting for… Something.

Lance didn’t know what to say. This guy hadn’t even answered his questions. He was just weird. He awkwardly tapped his fingertips together in his lap and tried not to look at the other guy but he couldn’t help himself and found himself staring right back.

“So, um… You’re in my room…” He coughed out, grasping for his water bottle without taking his eyes off the other man, “And nearly gave me a heart attack, so…”

“Sorry about that.” He  _ did  _ sound sorry, but that still didn’t really excuse it. “I haven’t been seen in a while.”

There was a knock on the door, snatching Lance’s attention away as he brought the bottle closer and opened it.

“[Lance, who are you-]”

“Nothing! No one! Mama, why are you up?”

“[I made you soup.]” Her words were matter of fact as she brought the bowl closer, “[It’s light and mostly broth to help you sleep. Give you a warm belly.]”

Lance sighed but couldn’t help but smile, cautiously looking over at the stranger to find him oddly vanished. “Thanks, Mama. You didn’t just  _ cook  _ that, did you?”

“[Of course I did.]” She sounded affronted as she handed it off to him and he began slurping it up, almost moaning at the gentle flavors, “[It’s Abuela’s recipe. Almost. I left out a lot.]”

“Thank you, Mama.” Lance smiled up at her and wiped his chin with the back of his hand. He selfishly gulped down a little more before handing the half-empty bowl back over, “Here, you have the rest. I’m going to go back to sleep.”

Kissing him goodnight and tucking him in once more, she left his room and he looked around curiously before whispering into the dark, “Hey! This is my room! Don’t be weird!” and reaching to turn off his light and get some rest.

He didn’t sleep well that night, startling at every small noise and staring into the dark when he thought he saw something move, but he managed to get  _ some  _ sleep, and that’s all that counts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooohoohoo o. o  
> and so they meet~  
> this is getting good
> 
> Lance's dream was pretty hardcore, huh?
> 
> Let me know what you guys think in the comments below!

**Author's Note:**

> Just a reminder, this is a bilingual fic, but instead of going back and forth with footnotes and translations I used brackets "[ ]" to show conversations in Spanish~


End file.
